8ikes and 8ites
by Glitch Smokeside
Summary: As rival bike gang leaders with vast, powerful empires, Marquise and The Bull are two people you would never expect to be in cahoots. Much less to be in love. And when their affair is discovered, they're faced with a choice. Their entire lives, or each other?


She hadn't the foggiest idea what she was doing here, on his turf. She knew she shouldn't be here. She knew it was a bad idea that spelled out danger. She knew it was probably a trap, and even if it weren't, it was definitely a stupid thing to do. And yet, here she was. Drawn to it like a bug to a light.

_Funny enough comparison._ She thought as she took confident strides forward._ Considering the circumstance._

The buildings passed by her with leisurely pace as she took her time to reach her destination. She was not one to hurry, under any circumstances. The world could wait, and as the saying went, a queen is never late; everyone else is early.

And a queen she was.

Of the entire freaking city. If not all the cities.

_Perhaps then, Empress would suit me better_.

She smiled to herself, wickedly amused, and flickered her hair back from her good eye.

_No, I may have an empire, but I'll always be a Marquise_.

Before her, she saw the building, with all its neon flickering lights and long line of people gathered together like sheep to get in, approach. Of all places, he had to choose here. She still thought it was disgusting.

But smart. He was always smart. What better place for their private little affair than someplace so unfitting? No one would dream Marquise and the Bull would be having a secretive rendezvous in a trashy little nightclub. No one would dream they would be meeting in the first place. After all, the results would be disastrous if anyone were to discover them.

More dangerous for him, however. And it was that thought that made her almost tempted to leave a trail, or give a sign for some smart nosy rat to follow and chance upon their illicit union. On the other side, that would mean she would also be in a little bit of trouble, and why stir calm seas? And even more, or maybe less, upsetting would be that he wouldn't be with her anymore. That little bit of downside both pleased and saddened her, and her complicated feelings, combined with the little bit of wrist slapping that awaited her as a consequence was enough to keep her being secretive. For now, anyway.

But in the future, who knew? Perhaps one day their little affair would cease to entertain her, and she would seek out new amusement through that way. She almost looked forward to it.

It was with these thoughts of sweet and sour smiles she found herself ignoring the protests of the line-waiters, flashing the orange card to the bouncer and showing herself inside.

The music blared loudly off beat from the strobing lights, and she felt one lip curl up, as if it could hide itself from the tastelessness of it all. She went to the bar, eyeing the bartender with a flirtatious eye, and enjoying his flushed reactions. How she loved to see how she affected other people. Any reaction she wished she could coax, anything from trembling lust to shaking terror she could ignite in whomever she wished.

"I'll have an eight-ball." She smiled as she slid onto the stool.

"O-of course." He stammered, and she watched the piteous creature as he poured and mixed her drink. As he handed the dark liquor to her, she brushed her fingers against his and glanced up invitingly.

"Thanks." She grinned.

She watched him stumble away to help another customer, and she swerved her seat around, debating in her mind whether or not the dead, black, emotionless liquid in her cup was more captivating than the club around her. After all, it was more handsome, promised a better time. Ah, but it didn't promise any kind of stimulating conversation. But it _was_ delicious. But it lacked character. She thought the internal debate would go on forever, for she simply couldn't decide.

"So you came."

She cast her eyes towards the man who had approached her left, and had remained standing there, hunched over the bar, sipping on what appeared to be a beer. He was tall _and_ broad, with a dark complexion and dark hair that had broad red stripes leading from his forehead all the way down his skull. He wore a red shirt, and a brown leather jacket over it, with his turf's logo on the shoulders. Torn up jeans and heavy boots completed the rustic urban look. He had a lot of piercings.

"It would seem that way." She purred, taking a small sip of the black, burning liquid.

"I wasn't sure you would." She seemed to have to admit this.

"Nor was I." She smiled at him from beneath the brim of her hat. "And I'm still not sold on the idea, seeing as how there are literally six of your- what did you call them? Bullsmen? Within a 50-foot radius." She saw him frown. "Did you think I wouldn't know? Pathetic, really. Both that kind of thinking, and their half assed disguises."

"I.. did not want to upset you."

"You didn't." She chuckled, sipping a sip, both her drinking and speech leisurely. "If you had, I would have my blade to your throat, and then some real fun would begin. I do always seem to have the most fun when I'm truly upset." Sip. "Although, I can't say the same would be said for you, in that circumstance."

His frown deepened, and for the first time, he met her gaze with those beautiful scorching brown eyes.

"So why'd you come, if you thought it was a bad idea?"

She smiled, and drank the rest of her drink. "Who knows?" She set the glass on the counter, and gave a quick wink to the bartender, who blushed, before returning her gaze to the man before her. "But the one thing I didn't come here to do was waste time on such trivial talk."

His gaze deepened, and she felt something in her chest stir. "So what did you come here for?"

She smiled. "That's not something for the public's ears."

He finished his beer in one gulp, and put it back on the counter. "Follow me." He pushed away from the bar and started making his way through the throngs on people to a door. She followed, still smiling.

The door, with an 'Employees Only' sign nailed on the front, led to a flight of stairs. He didn't bother to wait for her, he simply continued climbing, and noted with satisfaction that her boots echoed after his.

She let herself be led to the top, through another door and into a much nicer office. The office looked like it belonged somewhere on her own turf, rather than this beat up club. The walls were red, and the décor was brown leathers and gold trim. The lights were old fashioned, like something you'd see in an old western tavern, and all the couches were pointed inward towards the mini bar, or in small semi circles at each other. This was clearing a socializing room. Big things were discussed here.

She stood at the door and watched as he went to the wall by the mini bar, and pressed some numbered on a little dial pad. His fingers hadn't left the pad when heavy looking window shutters clambered down with loud, mechanical sounds.

"Soundproof." He said, a slight shrug to his frame as he reached into the mini bar and removed two glasses, as well as a bottle of dark liquor. "You can remove that get-up now. It's only you and me."

"How generous." She purred, removing her heavy, ugly coat and hat to reveal her outfit of black leather and blue cloth that hugged her every womanly curve in an appealing fashion. She did love her clothes so. She tossed her coat and hat to the ground, not caring where they'd land.

He turned back around, two drinks in hand, and she saw with satisfaction his adam's apple bob.

"Feel free to search the room for cameras and such. You won't find any. This is a strategy room. We couldn't have that security risk."

"How kind." She smiled again, and stood in front of him, taking one drink in her hand and smiling up at him, aware of his every reaction to her. "But I think both you and I know who would get the shit end of the stick if word of this were to get to any interested ears." She took a sip of the liquor and turned on her heel, choosing a big, comfy couch to sit on while she drank.

"Now, am I going to have to spell out to you what I'm here for, or are you going to stop acting like a twelve year old with a crush on his babysitter?"

With that, she saw his adam's apple bob again, before he downed the entire glass of liquor in one swig, and set the glass down on the bar with a heavy clink that resonated through her bones, all innocent looks gone from his deliciously rugged face.

"That'dda boy."

He stopped in front of her, and she smirked over the rim of her glass, telling him she knew what he planned to do.

He straddled her, one knee on either side, and pulled her face to his, pulling her into a deep kiss against his hard lips. She smiled at how cute he was. A boy with a crush indeed, considering their ten year age gap.

Without breaking their kiss, she set down her glass with a clink, and wrapped her long fingers around his hips. His breathing hitched when she yanked him down to her lap and rolled her hips, but he didn't pull away.

Instead, she felt his hands pull away from her head, and heard his leather jacket being taken off and tossed carelessly to the floor. He was eager. She broke their kiss, and pulled away to watch.

How pretty he was. The sight before her was mesmerizing, and she felt that familiar carnal need begin heating her gut. His face was flushed, his eyes watery, his fingers trembled. Those eyes.. such a warm honey brown color, so glistening with lust for her.

"Strip." She gave the single command with a smile. He immediately hopped off her lap to comply. Quick movements, but not clumsy. His shirt first, gone over his head in a flash of tan, defined chest. His belt next, the golden buckle clinking against itself. His jeans, worn and tattered, yanked off until he stood before her, clad only in elastic briefs, his eagerness showing through. She chuckled.

"Excited?"

"For you, always." He replied, serious.

Sobered by his tone, she uncrossed her legs and stood, placing herself before him. As she drew close, she saw a shudder run through him.

"So prepared, aren't you? To do my will. To be my pet." She intended for it to come out harsh, but she heard the gentle wondering in it as much as he did.

"Yes." He answered as seriously as before.

She scoffed at his readiness. "Only a fool answers something so detrimental so quickly and thoughtlessly." She turned her face away in disgust, only to have rough fingers force her eyes to meet his.

"You mock me."

"Yes."

He frowned.

"Don't think I haven't thought this through. I know the risks as well as you do. There is nothing I haven't considered."

"And you'll still go through with it, despite knowing the danger? That's even more foolish than going through with it ignorantly."

He kissed her, quickly, silencing her, and pulled barely far enough away to speak.

"And you, then? If I'm a fool, what are you?"

She didn't know.

"I'm only offering you a warning before we get too deep-"

"We're already too deep."

She ignored his interruption. "The last one that got involved like you so willingly intend to do, ended up dead."

The air tensed, and he pulled away from her lips.

"Dead?"

"Yes. An ex lover of mine shot her. Through the chest. She bled to death in my arms."

He didn't know what to say.

"That's.. tragic." He meant it.

She shrugged it off. "It was a long time ago, when I had less power." She would never let him know how much that had crippled her. That she had spent days on end sobbing and vomiting in grief. That she almost let herself wither away from neglect before she realized the best way to avenge her beloved would be to live, at least long enough to see her murderer's death.

"How did you deal with it?"

She smiled; how she loved this man. He knew her so well; he knew she wouldn't let something like that go by unpunished.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but I'm very good at mind games." She watched him nod. "Good boy, you've done you're research. For the sake of time, I'll shorten it to say I made him kill himself."

She smiled up at him, an evil glint in her eye.

"It wasn't the least painful way to go, either."

He swallowed, not nervous, but wary.

"Do you understand how dangerous I am now? Are you going to run away? Because I will tell you this: I am not a forgiving person. If you choose to proceed, only to chicken out later, I won't let you get away with it."

"As I said before." He took a step forward, pressing their bodies together. "I'm prepared."

He lowered his mouth to his, their eyes searing into each other's, and kissed her lightly.

"I only have one more thing to say."

"Oh?" She asked, wanting nothing more in that moment than his lips back on her own. "And what would that be?"

"You said before I was a fool, but didn't answer when I asked what you were."

She didn't see where he was going.

"You're a coward." He said, and before she could talk, he shoved his lips against hers, and she moaned. Talk could wait.

She slid off her jacket, and began unbuttoning her jeans, their tongues rubbing against each other, fighting for dominance, their breathing growing heavier by the moment. She felt his hands, large and rough, slip beneath her shirt and bra and she gasped into his mouth as he cupped her breasts. His fingers slid over her nipples, rough and invigorating. She rewarded his efforts with a moan.

She placed one hand on his chest and pressed him back, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. He swore.

"Oh, shut up. That didn't hurt." She rolled her eyes, taking off the rest of her clothes. He began to protest, but quieted and watched her instead.

As she stood naked, her tattoos and scars bare to him, she smiled. "Now, let's have some fun, shall we?"

She watched his adam's apple bob, and licked her lips.

She might be a coward, but he was still a fool. And a damned one at that. So naïvely he waltzes into her web, so unaware of the danger the spider poses to him.

_Oh well, let him enjoy it while he can. Too soon, I'm sure, we'll be discovered. It's only a matter of time. We might as well enjoys this time together, and whatever it is our relationship is becoming. After all, it's not every day something like this arises_.

And, after all, though she would never admit this to anyone, sometimes she needed this kind of attention. To be loved. Her world, in all its dark glory, could get lonely.

And even more of a secret, especially from the man panting into the carpet beneath her, was that her warnings weren't just for him.

She needed to remind herself of what she could do. Because she never wanted to kill someone she'd loved again.

And, without her realizing when it happened, she loved him.

And that, was the most dangerous thing about her.


End file.
